August 11, 2025 • 34 mins
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
Tight squeeze by Dean Charles ing quote. He knew the
theory of repairing the gizmo, all right, He had that
nicely taped. But there was the little matter of threading
a wire through a too small hole while under zero
g and working in a space suit end quote. Mac
(00:21):
Namara ambled across the loading ramp, savoring the dry, dusty
air that smelled unmistakable of spaceship. He half consciously separated
the odors, the sweet follidle scent of fuel, the sharp
aroma of lingering exhaust gases from early morning test firing,
the delicate odor of silicon plastic which was being stored
as payload. He shielded his eyes against the sun, watching
(00:44):
his men struggled with the last plastic girders to be
strapped down. High above the dazzling ground of white sands,
The slender cargo door stood open around Valier's girth, awaiting
his own personal OQT. This flight would be the fourth
for Major Edward mac Namara. As he neared the great
squatting shock absorbers, he could feel the tension begin to
(01:04):
not his stomach. He had, of course, been overwhelmed by
the opportunity to participate in Operation Doughnut. The fact that
he had been one of the best mechanical engineers in
the Air Force never occurred to him at the time.
He was a pilot, and a good one, but he
had languished a CEO of a maintenance squadron for nearly
two years before he was given another crack at glory.
(01:25):
Now he wasn't at all sure he was happy with
the transition. They needed master mechanics for Operation Doughnut, but
he felt they should be left on the ground. When
the towering supply rocket lifted, he stopped leaning against scaffolding
as he saw a familiar figure turn toward him. He
cupped his hands before his face. Ey d's that butt,
can't you, oh Mac? The commanding voice trailed off in
(01:49):
a chuckle. Better to clown his way through the inspection,
mac namara thought than to let Ruiz notice his nervousness.
The co pilot Ruis walked toward him, still smiling. One
of these days, Oh you're gonna go too far, thought
you were a real lating Karras Sabbatur, he clapped mac
Namara on the shoulder and gazed aloft. Good day for it,
no weather, no hangover, no nothing. Yeah, you know, Johnny,
(02:13):
I've been thinking about a modification for our breathing oxy.
He sniffed appreciatively. What's that? Put a little dust in it?
A few smells A stuff we breathe is just too sanitary.
I know what you mean. I sure begin to create
this filthy germ filled are after a few hours up there.
They both smiled at the thought, then turned to the
business at hand. By the way, Johnny, what do you
(02:35):
do not so early? Didn't expect to see you Caabbes
before ten. I don't know the bronze Rrewers replied, want
to betterly, you woke up at six and couldn't drop
off again? There I am Carlo ought to be along
around nine thirty. Thought I'd help you prefer it if
you want me to. Sure, he wanted nothing of the sort,
but he had the tact not to say so. Edward
(02:58):
McNamara was as familiar with the valley as he was
with the tip of his nose. He had been on
the scene when dan Burke test hopped the third stage,
had made improvements in re routing jobs, and had memorized
every serial number of every bearing that went into Valier.
As flight engineer he was supposed to. With Johnny Roue
as helping a little and hindering a little. He finished
(03:18):
his tour of the cargo sections and grinned his approval
to a muscular loading technician, Liken Buttoner Up. Sergeant couldn't
do a better job myself. It was a compliment of
the highest order, and they both knew it. Riding the
tiny lift down to ground level, Matnamara stopped them every
ten feet or so to circle the catwalks. He noticed
Ru's impatience about half way down. No hurry, Johnny, I
(03:41):
don't want another Wild on our hands. He knew he
shouldn't have said it, but it slipped out anyway. Everyone
tried to forget the Wild disaster, particularly the flight personnel.
The Wild, one of the first ships to be built,
had made only two orbits before being destroyed. Observers stated
that a cargo hatch ad somehow swung open when the
Wild was only a thousand feet in the air at
(04:03):
any rate. The pilot reported damage to one second stage fin,
and he tried to break his way down. The Wild
settled beautifully, tilted, then fell headlong. The resultant explosion caused
such destruction that had there not been a number of
men in orbit and waiting for supplies, the project might
have been halted temporarily. It was generally conceded that a
(04:25):
more thorough preflight could have prevented the wild's immolation. Ruiz
was noticeably quieter during the remainder of the inspection. The
external check completed, Macnamara strapped a small flashlight to his
wrist and began the internal inspection, jokingly called the autopsy.
An hour and over one hundred and fifty feet later,
(04:45):
Macnamara wheezed as he swung over the bulkhead at the
base of Valier's third and top stage. His aching limbs
persuaded him to take a breather. After all, his complete
inspection of the day before really made a final preflight unnecessary,
and passing near the frigid oxygen tanks was a day's
work in itself. He listened to the innumerable noises around
and below him. The clicks and hums near him meant
(05:08):
that Ruez, having given up following him, was checking out
the flight controls with power on only in the top stage.
From below came a vibrational, rushing noise, nearly subsonic, which
told him of the fueling operation. He thought of the
electrical relays governing the fuel input and shudder. He violently
disliked the idea of having hot wires near fuel of
(05:28):
any kind, and rocket fuel in particular. Macnamarus wept his
light over his wristwatch. Fifteen after Logan should be along soon,
he thought, and hastened to finish checking the conduits, servos, pumps,
and hydraulic actuators below the cabin level. This done, he
crawled up the final ladder to the cabin or dome well,
(05:48):
cried a cheerful voice. If it isn't a grimy irishman,
MacNamaras shook this wet from his brow and muttered, irishman
is it? How about Logan? That's a good Scaninavian name.
How about Logan? He's great as usual. Just look at me,
mac What a specimen. Logan, the inevitable optimist, bounced out
of his acceleration couch and spread his arms wide, as
(06:10):
if to show the world what a superman he Karl
Logan was. The gesture and its intimations made macnamara smile.
Logan wasn't much over five feet tall, and his flight
suit made him look like a bald pussy cat. His
small physique covered a fantastic set of reflexes, however, and
Logan's sense of humor was a quality of utmost importance.
He hadn't an enemy in the world. His enemy was
(06:33):
out of this world. By definition, Logan wanted to conquer space,
and so far was doing just that. Okay, okay, laugh,
Just remember this Gargantua. I may not be tall, but
I share him. Skinny Macnamara smiled again, nodding in agreement. Well,
don't everybody talk at once? I wished you Mac with luck,
(06:54):
answered Macnamara. We might get ten feet off the turf.
He paused for effect. Seriously, Karl, she never looked better.
You could take er up right now. Say where's Johnny?
I thought you'd just be checking into the medics. Looks
like everybody's early to day. He's probably over in some
corner making out his will. He was down below a
(07:15):
while ago, with fakes a mile long, probably, thought Mac.
He's still thinking about the wild. Why did I have
to bring that up aloud? He said? I ought to
check the ground crew. Did you bring the forms? Nope,
tis my magnificent self. If anything had gone astray, they'd
have told you all the same. I think I'll go
(07:35):
down and question the troops. Don't leave without me. He
clambered out on to the catwalk, leaving the airlock open.
The sun was riding higher every minute. In a little
over an hour, he'd be a thousand miles away vertically.
Then nat in his stomach began to form again. He
wasn't scared exactly, he kept telling himself. Excited was a
(07:55):
nicer word. The inspection forms signed, Mac held out short
interrogation with the crew chief. The grizzled lieutenant, commissioned because
of his long experience and responsibilities, gave Valier a clean
bill of health. Each engine of the booster stage had
been fired separately before dawn. A cubic foot of mercury
seemed to roll for Max's shoulders as he saw Logan
(08:16):
and Ruis lounging at the bottom of the lift. There
wasn't anything to worry about, he recalled, feeling the tension
before the other three flights, then shied at himself, Ye yes,
scaredy cat, Well, why not so risk every time you
make a shot in spite of all the propaganda. Oh,
if you didn't know, everything's okay. He wouldn't be getting
(08:37):
ready to make the shot. Yeah, but you never can tell.
He stopped his inward battle and forced some spring into
his step as he moved toward Logan and Ruis, try
my best to abort this big bug, but I can't
find anything amiss. That's Granny McNamara for you, Gibe Logan,
always trying to find fault. He winked at Ruis and
(08:57):
rubbed his hands together. Well, Tennis, anyone macnew without asking
that Logan, for all his barant indifference, had painstakingly gone
over every phase of the flight, checking distribution, radar, final
instructions from operations, weather, et cetera. Rue Is, as usual,
watched and took notes as Logan gathered data. At minus
(09:18):
fifteen minutes, the trio was in the dome checking personal equipment,
while outside the scaffolding ponderously slid away section by section.
There was little time for soliloquies of to go or
not to go. Within the quarter hour, Captain Ruis in
Major's Macnamara and Logan would be in readiness for the
final countdown. With the emergency bailout equipment checked, the men
(09:40):
busied themselves on another continuity test of the myriad circuits
spread like a human neural system throughout the ship. All relays,
servo systems, and instrument leads were in perfect condition as expected,
and the trio was settled comfortably in acceleration couches with
minutes to spare. Logan contacted ground control a few seconds
after the minus three minutes six and forming all and
(10:01):
Sundry that Gridley could fire when ready. Macnamara sighed, thinking
that if Logan's humor wasn't exactly original, it was surely tenacious.
The ship was brought to dim half life at minus
one minute by Logan's agile fingers, and as the final
countdown rasp in his head set, mac felt his inwards
brestle among themselves. Valier bellowed her enthusiasm, suddenly lifting her
(10:25):
eight thousand odd tons from the ground almost instantly. Inside
her occupants grimaced helplessly as they watched various instruments guide
tiny pointers across calibrated faces. Max's throat Mike threatened to
crush his Adam's apple, weighing five times its usual few ounces.
Of his senses, sound was the one that dominated him.
An intolerable continuous explosion from the motors racked his mind
(10:49):
like tidal waves of formic acid. He forced himself to
overcome the numbness which his brain cast up to defend itself. Then,
as quickly as it had begun, Valier fell deafeningly silent.
That meant Mock one was past. It was an eternity
before stage one separated. The loss of the empty hulk
was hardly felt as Valiers streaked high over the Texas border. Ruiz,
(11:12):
watching the radar scope, saw Lubbock slide into focus miles below,
next up Fort Worth. He thought, I used to drive
that in five hours. The jagged line of the cap
rock told him they were well on their way to
Fort Worth. Already, the ultimeter showed slightly over forty two
miles When Stage two detached itself. Logan, in constant contact
(11:33):
with White Sands, was informed that they were tracking perfectly.
As Valier arrowed over central Texas toward rendezvous at the Doughnut,
the exhausted lower stages were forgotten now only the second
stage was of any concern anyway. The radar boys tracked
it all the way down, ready to detonate it. High
in the air of its huge shoots, wafted it near
any inhabited community. The motors of Stage three blasted for
(11:57):
a carefully calculated few seconds, then cut out autumn. With
the destitution of his weight, Mack felt his spirits soar. Also.
They were almost in orbit, now climbing at a slight
angle with a velocity sufficient to carry them around Earth
forever a streamlined tiny satellite. After the first few moments
of disorientation, rocket crews found that a weightless condition gave
(12:19):
them ambiguously a buoyant feeling. Only the Doughnut crew had
really adapted to this condition, living as they did without
the effects of gravity for hours at a time every day.
The temporary housing was rotated for comfort of the crews
during rust periods, but while moving the plates and girders
of the giant Doughnut into place, they had no such luxury.
(12:40):
For these men, weightlessness became an integral part of their activities,
but the rocket crews were subjected to this phenomenon only
during the few hours needed to rendezvous, unload the cargo,
and coast back after another initial period of acceleration. Hence,
Mac felt the strange elation when he tapped his fingers
on the arm of his couch and saw his arm
float upward due to reaction from the tap. Against all regulations,
(13:05):
Logan unstrapped himself and motioned his comrades to do the same.
This unorthodox seventh inning stretch was prohibited because it left
the pilot's armrest controls without an operator, hence could prove
disastrous if, through some malfunction the ship should veer off course.
The autopilot functioned perfectly, however, and Logan trusted it to
the point of ensusios The three men lounged in mid air,
(13:29):
grinning foolishly as they swam about the tiny cabin. No
more satisfying stretch was ever enjoyed. A few minutes of
this was enough. Ruis was the first to gingerly pull
himself into his couch, and his companions followed. Not a
word had passed between them, since they were at all
times in contact with monitor stations spaced across the world below.
(13:50):
The first time they had enjoyed this irregular horseplay. On
the second trip, Logan had made the mistake of saying
race it to the airlock and was hard put to
explain those words. Nor could Logan switch to intercom only
since a sudden radio silence would create anxiety below. Only
their heavy breathing would indicate unusual activity to earth'side. They
(14:12):
were nearing the intercept point a thousand miles above the
Atlantic when they realized their predicament. I mean in fixed,
Carl said ruis, meaning that he had tentatively fixed a
position of intercept correct out of innovation. What point nine
degrees high right oh correction in five seconds from my
mark mark? For slight corrections in the flight path, small
(14:35):
steering motors were utilized. These motors were located near the
rear lip of Valier's conical cargo sections on retractable booms.
Extension of the motors, with no resultant air friction, gave
a longer pivot arm and consequently better efficiency. Mac pressed
the auxiliary steer stud and immediately three amber lights winked
on in their respective instrument consoles. Karl Logan fired the
(14:59):
twelve o'clock more or briefly, only it didn't fire. The
change in momentum wouldn't be much in any case, but
it was always perceptible by feel and by instrument. There
was no change. Logan tried the firing circuit again and again.
Still Valier streaked along now miles above the intended point
of intercept. By this time, the embryo space station was
(15:20):
quite near, sailing along in the scope beneath them. It
slowly moved toward the top of the scope, passing Valiers
in its slightly higher relative velocity. We've got trouble's Mac
find 'em. Logan had finally lost the devil may care attitude.
At that fact was small consolation in Macnamara. Keep your
mids off those firing stuts, Carl, he growled, unstrapping himself quickly.
(15:44):
The malfunction was definitely in the auxiliary motor set up,
he thought, a common trouble. It wouldn't pay to find out.
If the other motors fired, it would only throw them
further off course. If worst came to worst, they could
roll Valier over and use the six o'clock auxiliary. There
was a small arc through which the motors could turn
on their mounts, but the trouble was unknown, and they
(16:05):
might end up rifling or pinmeeling if they didn't let
bad enough alone. During his mental trouble shooting, Mac was
busily warming his boke into a balloonish looking suit identical
to those worn by the Doughnuts construction crew. Ruiz gave
him some aid, helping him thrust his arms past the
spring folded elbow joints. For some reason, the legs gave
less trouble. Within a fumbling few moments, he was ready
(16:27):
for work. He glanced at Logan through his vizor, feeling
a precious pleasure over the beads of sweat on Logan's forehead.
Time he sweated a little thought the mechanic. A final
check of his headset followed, after which Mac oozed into
the little Putian air lock at the bottom now rear
wall of the cabin. He nodded to Ruiz, who secured
(16:48):
the airlock, then adjusted his suit control to force a
little pressure into his suit. Gradually the suit became livable.
Then he cracked the other air lock valve and allowed
pressure to leak out around him. His suit puffed out
with soft popping noises, and Mac heard the last vestige
of air hiss out of the chambers. He found the
hatchway too tight for comfort, and had a moment of
(17:09):
fear when his tool pack caught in the orifice, wedging
him neatly. He could hear Logan and Ruiz through his
earphones explaining their plight to ground control. They wanted to
know why in blue blazes Valier hadn't contacted the doughnut
when it came within range, and Logan had no defense
save preoccupation with his own plight. Belatedly, Ruis made radio
contact with the doughnut, which was still well within range.
(17:32):
All this time, mac busied himself with his inspection light,
tracing the electrical leads to the small turbine operated auxiliary
motor fuel pumps. Mac Logan's voice startled him. Can't embrace yourself.
I'm going to try to match velocities with the doughnut.
Won't take over one G for a few seconds. Wait
a minute, He looked wildly around him. Valier hadn't been
(17:55):
built with a view towards stowaways, and every cubic inch
of space was crammed with something except for the passageway
with its ladder leading up from the main motor section. Well,
if it wasn't over a G, he could hang on
to the ladder. Suit weighs for another fifty pounds, though
I weight plus fifty, he thought. Give me a chance
to get set, he said aloud. He hooked one bulbust
(18:17):
leg over a ladder rung and braced the other against
a lower rung, hugging the ladder with both arms. Any
time you say, but kill it. If you hear me holler,
then five seconds from my mark Mark, Mac tightened his
grip and then sagged backward as the main motors fired.
The vibrations shook him slightly but deeply, and he fought
(18:37):
to keep his hold. He felt his back creak and
pop with a sudden surge of weight. Then the motor
shut off and Max skidded several feet up the ladder.
No matter how fast a man's reactions were, they couldn't
be applied quickly enough to keep him from starting an
involuntary leap after bracing against a suddenly removed gravity load
(18:58):
all over Mac, you O, K, guess so, but I
feel like a ping pong ball. How are we sittin?
Jes fine rue is cut in? Find anything? Not yet?
Mac started his search anew. Everything seemed in perfect order
up to the turbine pumps. Then he feared the trouble
was near the little motors. That was tough, really tough.
(19:22):
With the motors retracted, it was next too impossible to
get to them past their hydraulically operated booms and actuators extended.
He'd have to go outside. He cringed from the thought,
although he knew that there was little to fear if
he linked himself to the ship. He peered along the
beam of light, searching for some tell tale discoloration in
wiring or a gleaming icy patch which would indicate a
(19:43):
fuel leak. Might be the firing plugs. He muttered, let's
hope not where are you, mac, Maybe you'd better give
us a blow by blow. Logan sounded worried. Good idea
right now, I'm at the nine o'clock actuator. Nothing so far.
He looked around himself, forgetting for the moment how he
(20:04):
was supposed to get past the equipment to the other
auxiliary motor stations. Johnny, he said, slowly, I think you
best break out the tapes auxiliary motor system. You'll find
them under power plant. Once before, macnamara had made a
complete set of tape recordings of his own voice recorded
as he made a thorough going run down of every
(20:25):
system and its components. This was a personal innovation which
his fellow flight engineers considered folly extra weight. He scoffed
undue complication. Mack nodded and went on with his impromptu
speech making. A professional psychiatrist might have said correctly that
Mac felt an unconscious need for supervision, a forgivable deficiency
(20:46):
dating back to his cadet days. Max simply claimed that
the best of men could forget or omit when alone
with a few million dollars worth of Uncle Sam's equipment.
This way he could remind himself of each step to
be taken ahead of time in his own way. The
copilot rushed to comply. Mac waiting suddenly remembered how to
get past this obstacle. Internal braces, which helped keep the
(21:08):
tanks rigidly in place on Earth, were of little use
while in free loading or gravityless state. The braces were removable,
and Mac had loosed a single wing nut to let
the brace swing loose when he heard Johnny Rue's answer,
ready with your tape, Mac, where should I start it?
Run through it till you get to a blank spot,
then another, then stop it. He was certain he didn't
(21:30):
really need the tape, but it was a maintenance aid
and he was determined to use it. He heard a click,
then a hum, as the recorder was jacked into his
head set circuit. Immediately, a familiar voice began a slow
dissertation on power leads from the dome, speed it up
in the space of a second or two to a
high pitched alien gibberish, then to a faint scream. He
(21:52):
began squirming around the turbine banks, got past the first
brace and turned to attach it again. Of course it
wasn't necessary, but play it safe was embroidered on his
brain by years of maintenance experience. Back in his old
mate and squadron, he had been called the old lady
instead of the old man due to his insistence on precautions.
(22:13):
Ruis slowed the tape suddenly on cue and Mac hurt himself, saying,
brace back in its slot and pin it. Be careful
of those linkages on the turbine pumps, and I'll crawl
around to the next brace and unpin it. Pause, scraping
noises and muttered oath, pinch sticks. But it won't without
a load on it. It didn't. He worked slower than
(22:34):
he had on the ground, fumbling with the heavy gloves
and cursing mightily. His voice rambled on, warning him of
obstacles and reminding him about minor points that could give trouble.
He listened carefully, discarding each suggestion. Floating near the twelve
o'clock auxiliary, Mac appeared at each tube connection, tugging and twisting.
Wait a minute, he said. His light flashed out at
(22:57):
the motor writing perched on its swivel, lined against cold,
hard points of light that were the stars. His heart
gave a bound. I think I've found it. His other
voice droned on morbidly. Turn nothing off a minute, Johnny, listen,
there's a lead to the twelve o'clock fuel valve solenoid
that looks like Yes, I'm sure of it. It's pulled
(23:18):
away from a bracket and looks like it might be charred.
Mac twisted around a few of the wiring better, can
you fix it? Sure if that's all there is wrong,
But I'd rather do the work with the motors too.
Tract it tell you what attract them. About forty five
degrees when I give the word, Mac judged the distance
the booms would cover during semi retraction, and half floated,
(23:41):
half crawled out of the way. He found himself breathing heavily.
Despite the freeload conditions. His suit was simply too cumbersome.
The thought came to him that he didn't even know
how long he'd been out of the dome. His breathing
oxygen gage showed half empty, so he must have been
on the job for a round a half hour. He
rationed supply a bit, hoping he could finish the job
(24:02):
without a refill. Okay, Johnny, you can run the tape
again and retract the motors while you're at it. He
heard the tape start again on its course, watching the booms.
They leaped inward then, and Mac felt a crushing blow
across his back. He shook his head gruggly and yelled.
He tried to scramble from his place between motor and
turbine fuel lines, without success. He was trapped like a
(24:24):
wild animal by the heavy actuator, which had swung past
his head. He heard himself say, and be sure to
stay clear of the actuator. It swings through a ninety
degree arc when it's operated. Oh shut up, I know what,
I just judged it wrong. The tape moved on unperturbedly,
reminding him to inspect the actuator bearings and extension rods.
(24:45):
Mac came Logan's voice. You might try to hurry it.
If you can't get it fixed in an hour or two,
we'll have to try rolling valley down to the doughnut.
But it's up to you. Fella, take your time. Well,
you might help me a bit by raising this hydraulic
unit off of my shoulders. Muck, He didn't squash me.
The actuator stayed where it was. Johnny Karl, do you
(25:06):
read me? No answer? Obviously the actuator had smashed his
transmitter but left the receiver section intact. Then all he
could hope for would be a suspicion from one of
the others that all was not well. If they asked
him any questions and he failed to reply, they'd figured
something was wrong. Well, he couldn't count on that. He
(25:27):
struggled with his vulcanized suit trying to squeeze from under
the actuator. If I'd have them retracted completely, he thought
I'd be a dead man. It was a tight squeeze,
but he inched his way out of the trap by
using every ounce of strength at his command. If his
suit tore, he'dnew it. In a hurry. Gasping for breath,
mac drew himself into a crouch and regarded the offending wire.
(25:51):
His flashlight still operated and he could see the heavy
insulation which had been scraped away. No charring. Then it
must have been the extension rods that had scissored the insulation.
The wire hung together by a thread, the strands of
metal severed completely. He groped for his toolkit, trying to
ignore the voice in his headset, well, that takes care
(26:11):
of the actuators. Now for these dinky motors, the swovel
mounts have to work without any lubricant to look for
indications of wear, and mac cursed under his breath. He
sounded so cocksure, so all knowing. He felt like beating himself,
his earlier self, who had blithely toured Valier trailing the
microphone wires without any real premonition of trouble. It always
(26:33):
happens to the other guy, not this time, chum, he
reminded himself. The gloves were systematically foiling his attempts to
withdraw the coil of wire at his side. The toolkit
was the ultimate and maintenance work, compact and complete with
extension handles for the cutters and wrenches. Everything was there,
but practically impossible to use his fingers finally closed over
(26:54):
the wire. He jerked it out and with it the
splice tool. The little pliers carried from the brace above
him and sailed out towards the motor beyond the ship.
He watched horrified as the tool slowly cartwheeled away into space.
All right, he muttered, scratch one' splice tool as also
my only pair of pliers. I'll manage. He knew he
(27:16):
could use the wire cutters in a pinch. In a pinch,
he repeated, Well, that's a hot one. That's about all
that tappened this trip so far. Pinch may pinch the wiring.
What a pinch? Holding the roll of wire tightly in
one hand, he grasped the cutters and pulled them from
the kit With utmost care. He unrolled a foot long
section of wire and clipped it off, laying his flashlight
(27:38):
in the toolkit so that it would shine out in
front of him. He managed to attach the tiny seplace
plugs by pinching them with the cutters, then moved cautiously
to the wire, which still drooped from the jumble of machinery.
Drooped wasn't precisely the word. Actually, the wire had been
bent into its position and stayed that way. As the
harried major reached for the brace on which the wire
(27:58):
had been bracketed, his tool came it vomited flashlight, wrenches,
and screwdrivers, leaving him in total darkness. His cursing was regular,
now monotonous and uninspired. There was another pencil light in
the kit, snapped tightly to the case, and Mac reached
for the whole business. The spare light was a maintenance
problem in itself. Question how to retrieve a fountain pen
(28:20):
sized object when it's held by a small snap and
the retriever is encumbered by three pairs of arctic mittens.
Mark saw his errant flashlight out of the corner of
his eye. Its beam fastened on a collapsed screwdriver. While
both swam sluggishly toward the inspection ladder. He located the
pencil light and jerked it loose, holding the short wire
and cutters in his other hand. This Mac knew was
(28:43):
the crucial point. If he could splice the wire hanging
in front of him, Valier would once more be in
perfect shape. He would have welcomed an extra hand or two.
As he straddled a brace and shoved the tiny flash
between his head piece and shoulder fabric. The wire should
be stripped, he knew, but he didn't have the tools.
They were scarcely ten feet from him, but they could
have rested atop the kremlin for all the good they
(29:04):
did him. He got most of the strands of one
end of wire shoved into a spliced lug and called
it good enough. It was like trying to thread a
needle whose eye was deeper than it was wide while
in a diving suit, using the business end of a
paint brush to start the thread. He withdrew one hand
and searched the kit for friction tape. It might be
mentioned that an insulating tape which would be adhesive at
(29:27):
minus two hundred degrees centigrade yet keep its properties at
plus one thousand, was the near culmination of chemical science.
Silicon plastic research provided the adhesive, an inert gum which
changed almost none through a fantastic range of temperatures and pressures.
The tape macked used to insure his connection at an
Asbesto's base. With adhesive gum insinuated into the tape, he
(29:50):
wrapped the wire tightly, then bound it to the brace.
He noticed his visor fogging up and felt a faint
giddy sensation an oxymia. He let the tape drift as
he reached for his regulator dial. What a fool he was,
he thought, to starve his lungs. He turned the dial
to energy maximum and go precious leaders of oxygen helium mixture.
(30:12):
The gage showed a store of the gas which might
possibly be enough to last him if nothing else went wrong.
Perhaps ten minutes. The pencil flash mercifully still rested in
a fold of his shoulder joint fabric. The insulation tape
floated near his waist. He grabbed it and stowed it
between his knee and the brace, then reached once again
for the wiring. This time the spice went on without
(30:35):
a hitch. He pinched the spice lug and taped the
whole works feverishly. It was done. He had won. The
trip back should only take a couple of minutes. Replacing
the wire cutters in his kit, he held the pencil
plash before him and started retracing his route. He passed
the twelve o'clock brace, pinned it in again, and saw
one of these tools floating to the right of his head.
(30:57):
He gathered it in and swept his tiny flash around
in search of other jetsam from his toolkit. He collected
a wrench in the skittish flashlight, started toward the last
brace between him and the ladder, and felt his legs
go limp. He wasn't particularly alarmed about it. His arms
and vision failed him too, but his brain hadn't enough
incoming oxygen to care much one way or the other.
(31:19):
The few remaining feet seemed to lengthen into a sewer
like passageway that vanished, as did all else. As his
perceptions died. Mac namara was not the sort to wonder
about heaven or hell. When he first awoke, he saw
a faintly rounded ceiling, a soft yellow tint accentuating its featurelessness.
How the devil, he began, His voice failed him. Hi,
(31:43):
mac Logan's beaming face loomed over him. Your rugged character,
you cold is a pickle an hour ago. Now already
you're asking silly questions. He held up his hand as
Max started to speak. I hear you thinking now the devil?
Did I get here? And where is here? In reverse order?
This is the most comfortable berth in the doughnuts facilities?
(32:03):
And you got here courtesy of one Johnny Rouis myself,
I wouldn't have taken the trouble. Mac grimmed back at
his pilot and cleared his throat. Well, where is he?
I want to shake his hand or give him half
my kingdom or something. You know, Johnny the shy tag,
he'll be long after a while. You know, I think
he kind of likes you. When you quit transmitting out there,
(32:25):
Johnny was like a cat on a hot skillet. Finally
he decided to go back and have a look for himself.
But I told him you probably had a hot game
of solitaire going anyway. He went back and found you
asleep on the job. Lost a good ten pounds getting
your fat carcass through the airlock. That was the job
that must have taxed both Rua's and Logan. But Mack
held his silence, and that was about the size of it.
(32:49):
Bellieers parked outside with some of the boy as good
as ever. Come on, we'll sap up some coffee. Max
swung himself up to a sitting position and realized dizzily
that he was mother naked. His ribs felt pulverized. You guys,
suer mauled me up, said accusingly, unavoidable. My dear greused Monkey,
you needed a little artificial respiration and never was too
(33:11):
good at that. Well, whoever did the job rate surprise
of some sort, Mac answered, But my ribs told me
he had more enthusiasm than practice. Logan smiled his old
familiar smile, relieved to find his engineer in joking spirits.
The credit again goes to Johnny, but he added, try
not to be too hard on him. Try giving artificial
(33:32):
respiration to a big lump like yourself some time without
any gravity. Mac digested this titbit as he pulled on
a fresh pair of overalls. Okay, he said, standing on
the Fomax floor, how did he do it? Strapped you
into your couch, face down, and locked his legs around it.
I didn't dare reply any gees. Come on, he finished,
(33:54):
You've managed to upset every time table in the project.
Johnny shaking like a leaf, or was when I left
him a bowl of coffee'll do us both a world
O good, I'm sold, Mac grunted, zipping up a flight boot.
But there's something I'd like to do first chance I get,
which is which is jettison every last strip of tape
(34:14):
I have on Valier. I tell you Logan, he went on,
as they entered the recreation bar. You'll never know how
degrading it is to hear useless, insipid information offered to
you when you're in a tight spot, knowing full well
of voices your own. The End End of Tight Squeeze
by Dean Charles NG
Tight squeeze by Dean Charles ing quote. He knew the
theory of repairing the gizmo, all right, He had that
nicely taped. But there was the little matter of threading
a wire through a too small hole while under zero
g and working in a space suit end quote. Mac
(00:21):
Namara ambled across the loading ramp, savoring the dry, dusty
air that smelled unmistakable of spaceship. He half consciously separated
the odors, the sweet follidle scent of fuel, the sharp
aroma of lingering exhaust gases from early morning test firing,
the delicate odor of silicon plastic which was being stored
as payload. He shielded his eyes against the sun, watching
(00:44):
his men struggled with the last plastic girders to be
strapped down. High above the dazzling ground of white sands,
The slender cargo door stood open around Valier's girth, awaiting
his own personal OQT. This flight would be the fourth
for Major Edward mac Namara. As he neared the great
squatting shock absorbers, he could feel the tension begin to
(01:04):
not his stomach. He had, of course, been overwhelmed by
the opportunity to participate in Operation Doughnut. The fact that
he had been one of the best mechanical engineers in
the Air Force never occurred to him at the time.
He was a pilot, and a good one, but he
had languished a CEO of a maintenance squadron for nearly
two years before he was given another crack at glory.
(01:25):
Now he wasn't at all sure he was happy with
the transition. They needed master mechanics for Operation Doughnut, but
he felt they should be left on the ground. When
the towering supply rocket lifted, he stopped leaning against scaffolding
as he saw a familiar figure turn toward him. He
cupped his hands before his face. Ey d's that butt,
can't you, oh Mac? The commanding voice trailed off in
(01:49):
a chuckle. Better to clown his way through the inspection,
mac namara thought than to let Ruiz notice his nervousness.
The co pilot Ruis walked toward him, still smiling. One
of these days, Oh you're gonna go too far, thought
you were a real lating Karras Sabbatur, he clapped mac
Namara on the shoulder and gazed aloft. Good day for it,
no weather, no hangover, no nothing. Yeah, you know, Johnny,
(02:13):
I've been thinking about a modification for our breathing oxy.
He sniffed appreciatively. What's that? Put a little dust in it?
A few smells A stuff we breathe is just too sanitary.
I know what you mean. I sure begin to create
this filthy germ filled are after a few hours up there.
They both smiled at the thought, then turned to the
business at hand. By the way, Johnny, what do you
(02:35):
do not so early? Didn't expect to see you Caabbes
before ten. I don't know the bronze Rrewers replied, want
to betterly, you woke up at six and couldn't drop
off again? There I am Carlo ought to be along
around nine thirty. Thought I'd help you prefer it if
you want me to. Sure, he wanted nothing of the sort,
but he had the tact not to say so. Edward
(02:58):
McNamara was as familiar with the valley as he was
with the tip of his nose. He had been on
the scene when dan Burke test hopped the third stage,
had made improvements in re routing jobs, and had memorized
every serial number of every bearing that went into Valier.
As flight engineer he was supposed to. With Johnny Roue
as helping a little and hindering a little. He finished
(03:18):
his tour of the cargo sections and grinned his approval
to a muscular loading technician, Liken Buttoner Up. Sergeant couldn't
do a better job myself. It was a compliment of
the highest order, and they both knew it. Riding the
tiny lift down to ground level, Matnamara stopped them every
ten feet or so to circle the catwalks. He noticed
Ru's impatience about half way down. No hurry, Johnny, I
(03:41):
don't want another Wild on our hands. He knew he
shouldn't have said it, but it slipped out anyway. Everyone
tried to forget the Wild disaster, particularly the flight personnel.
The Wild, one of the first ships to be built,
had made only two orbits before being destroyed. Observers stated
that a cargo hatch ad somehow swung open when the
Wild was only a thousand feet in the air at
(04:03):
any rate. The pilot reported damage to one second stage fin,
and he tried to break his way down. The Wild
settled beautifully, tilted, then fell headlong. The resultant explosion caused
such destruction that had there not been a number of
men in orbit and waiting for supplies, the project might
have been halted temporarily. It was generally conceded that a
(04:25):
more thorough preflight could have prevented the wild's immolation. Ruiz
was noticeably quieter during the remainder of the inspection. The
external check completed, Macnamara strapped a small flashlight to his
wrist and began the internal inspection, jokingly called the autopsy.
An hour and over one hundred and fifty feet later,
(04:45):
Macnamara wheezed as he swung over the bulkhead at the
base of Valier's third and top stage. His aching limbs
persuaded him to take a breather. After all, his complete
inspection of the day before really made a final preflight unnecessary,
and passing near the frigid oxygen tanks was a day's
work in itself. He listened to the innumerable noises around
and below him. The clicks and hums near him meant
(05:08):
that Ruez, having given up following him, was checking out
the flight controls with power on only in the top stage.
From below came a vibrational, rushing noise, nearly subsonic, which
told him of the fueling operation. He thought of the
electrical relays governing the fuel input and shudder. He violently
disliked the idea of having hot wires near fuel of
(05:28):
any kind, and rocket fuel in particular. Macnamarus wept his
light over his wristwatch. Fifteen after Logan should be along soon,
he thought, and hastened to finish checking the conduits, servos, pumps,
and hydraulic actuators below the cabin level. This done, he
crawled up the final ladder to the cabin or dome well,
(05:48):
cried a cheerful voice. If it isn't a grimy irishman,
MacNamaras shook this wet from his brow and muttered, irishman
is it? How about Logan? That's a good Scaninavian name.
How about Logan? He's great as usual. Just look at me,
mac What a specimen. Logan, the inevitable optimist, bounced out
of his acceleration couch and spread his arms wide, as
(06:10):
if to show the world what a superman he Karl
Logan was. The gesture and its intimations made macnamara smile.
Logan wasn't much over five feet tall, and his flight
suit made him look like a bald pussy cat. His
small physique covered a fantastic set of reflexes, however, and
Logan's sense of humor was a quality of utmost importance.
He hadn't an enemy in the world. His enemy was
(06:33):
out of this world. By definition, Logan wanted to conquer space,
and so far was doing just that. Okay, okay, laugh,
Just remember this Gargantua. I may not be tall, but
I share him. Skinny Macnamara smiled again, nodding in agreement. Well,
don't everybody talk at once? I wished you Mac with luck,
(06:54):
answered Macnamara. We might get ten feet off the turf.
He paused for effect. Seriously, Karl, she never looked better.
You could take er up right now. Say where's Johnny?
I thought you'd just be checking into the medics. Looks
like everybody's early to day. He's probably over in some
corner making out his will. He was down below a
(07:15):
while ago, with fakes a mile long, probably, thought Mac.
He's still thinking about the wild. Why did I have
to bring that up aloud? He said? I ought to
check the ground crew. Did you bring the forms? Nope,
tis my magnificent self. If anything had gone astray, they'd
have told you all the same. I think I'll go
(07:35):
down and question the troops. Don't leave without me. He
clambered out on to the catwalk, leaving the airlock open.
The sun was riding higher every minute. In a little
over an hour, he'd be a thousand miles away vertically.
Then nat in his stomach began to form again. He
wasn't scared exactly, he kept telling himself. Excited was a
(07:55):
nicer word. The inspection forms signed, Mac held out short
interrogation with the crew chief. The grizzled lieutenant, commissioned because
of his long experience and responsibilities, gave Valier a clean
bill of health. Each engine of the booster stage had
been fired separately before dawn. A cubic foot of mercury
seemed to roll for Max's shoulders as he saw Logan
(08:16):
and Ruis lounging at the bottom of the lift. There
wasn't anything to worry about, he recalled, feeling the tension
before the other three flights, then shied at himself, Ye yes,
scaredy cat, Well, why not so risk every time you
make a shot in spite of all the propaganda. Oh,
if you didn't know, everything's okay. He wouldn't be getting
(08:37):
ready to make the shot. Yeah, but you never can tell.
He stopped his inward battle and forced some spring into
his step as he moved toward Logan and Ruis, try
my best to abort this big bug, but I can't
find anything amiss. That's Granny McNamara for you, Gibe Logan,
always trying to find fault. He winked at Ruis and
(08:57):
rubbed his hands together. Well, Tennis, anyone macnew without asking
that Logan, for all his barant indifference, had painstakingly gone
over every phase of the flight, checking distribution, radar, final
instructions from operations, weather, et cetera. Rue Is, as usual,
watched and took notes as Logan gathered data. At minus
(09:18):
fifteen minutes, the trio was in the dome checking personal equipment,
while outside the scaffolding ponderously slid away section by section.
There was little time for soliloquies of to go or
not to go. Within the quarter hour, Captain Ruis in
Major's Macnamara and Logan would be in readiness for the
final countdown. With the emergency bailout equipment checked, the men
(09:40):
busied themselves on another continuity test of the myriad circuits
spread like a human neural system throughout the ship. All relays,
servo systems, and instrument leads were in perfect condition as expected,
and the trio was settled comfortably in acceleration couches with
minutes to spare. Logan contacted ground control a few seconds
after the minus three minutes six and forming all and
(10:01):
Sundry that Gridley could fire when ready. Macnamara sighed, thinking
that if Logan's humor wasn't exactly original, it was surely tenacious.
The ship was brought to dim half life at minus
one minute by Logan's agile fingers, and as the final
countdown rasp in his head set, mac felt his inwards
brestle among themselves. Valier bellowed her enthusiasm, suddenly lifting her
(10:25):
eight thousand odd tons from the ground almost instantly. Inside
her occupants grimaced helplessly as they watched various instruments guide
tiny pointers across calibrated faces. Max's throat Mike threatened to
crush his Adam's apple, weighing five times its usual few ounces.
Of his senses, sound was the one that dominated him.
An intolerable continuous explosion from the motors racked his mind
(10:49):
like tidal waves of formic acid. He forced himself to
overcome the numbness which his brain cast up to defend itself. Then,
as quickly as it had begun, Valier fell deafeningly silent.
That meant Mock one was past. It was an eternity
before stage one separated. The loss of the empty hulk
was hardly felt as Valiers streaked high over the Texas border. Ruiz,
(11:12):
watching the radar scope, saw Lubbock slide into focus miles below,
next up Fort Worth. He thought, I used to drive
that in five hours. The jagged line of the cap
rock told him they were well on their way to
Fort Worth. Already, the ultimeter showed slightly over forty two
miles When Stage two detached itself. Logan, in constant contact
(11:33):
with White Sands, was informed that they were tracking perfectly.
As Valier arrowed over central Texas toward rendezvous at the Doughnut,
the exhausted lower stages were forgotten now only the second
stage was of any concern anyway. The radar boys tracked
it all the way down, ready to detonate it. High
in the air of its huge shoots, wafted it near
any inhabited community. The motors of Stage three blasted for
(11:57):
a carefully calculated few seconds, then cut out autumn. With
the destitution of his weight, Mack felt his spirits soar. Also.
They were almost in orbit, now climbing at a slight
angle with a velocity sufficient to carry them around Earth
forever a streamlined tiny satellite. After the first few moments
of disorientation, rocket crews found that a weightless condition gave
(12:19):
them ambiguously a buoyant feeling. Only the Doughnut crew had
really adapted to this condition, living as they did without
the effects of gravity for hours at a time every day.
The temporary housing was rotated for comfort of the crews
during rust periods, but while moving the plates and girders
of the giant Doughnut into place, they had no such luxury.
(12:40):
For these men, weightlessness became an integral part of their activities,
but the rocket crews were subjected to this phenomenon only
during the few hours needed to rendezvous, unload the cargo,
and coast back after another initial period of acceleration. Hence,
Mac felt the strange elation when he tapped his fingers
on the arm of his couch and saw his arm
float upward due to reaction from the tap. Against all regulations,
(13:05):
Logan unstrapped himself and motioned his comrades to do the same.
This unorthodox seventh inning stretch was prohibited because it left
the pilot's armrest controls without an operator, hence could prove
disastrous if, through some malfunction the ship should veer off course.
The autopilot functioned perfectly, however, and Logan trusted it to
the point of ensusios The three men lounged in mid air,
(13:29):
grinning foolishly as they swam about the tiny cabin. No
more satisfying stretch was ever enjoyed. A few minutes of
this was enough. Ruis was the first to gingerly pull
himself into his couch, and his companions followed. Not a
word had passed between them, since they were at all
times in contact with monitor stations spaced across the world below.
(13:50):
The first time they had enjoyed this irregular horseplay. On
the second trip, Logan had made the mistake of saying
race it to the airlock and was hard put to
explain those words. Nor could Logan switch to intercom only
since a sudden radio silence would create anxiety below. Only
their heavy breathing would indicate unusual activity to earth'side. They
(14:12):
were nearing the intercept point a thousand miles above the
Atlantic when they realized their predicament. I mean in fixed,
Carl said ruis, meaning that he had tentatively fixed a
position of intercept correct out of innovation. What point nine
degrees high right oh correction in five seconds from my
mark mark? For slight corrections in the flight path, small
(14:35):
steering motors were utilized. These motors were located near the
rear lip of Valier's conical cargo sections on retractable booms.
Extension of the motors, with no resultant air friction, gave
a longer pivot arm and consequently better efficiency. Mac pressed
the auxiliary steer stud and immediately three amber lights winked
on in their respective instrument consoles. Karl Logan fired the
(14:59):
twelve o'clock more or briefly, only it didn't fire. The
change in momentum wouldn't be much in any case, but
it was always perceptible by feel and by instrument. There
was no change. Logan tried the firing circuit again and again.
Still Valier streaked along now miles above the intended point
of intercept. By this time, the embryo space station was
(15:20):
quite near, sailing along in the scope beneath them. It
slowly moved toward the top of the scope, passing Valiers
in its slightly higher relative velocity. We've got trouble's Mac
find 'em. Logan had finally lost the devil may care attitude.
At that fact was small consolation in Macnamara. Keep your
mids off those firing stuts, Carl, he growled, unstrapping himself quickly.
(15:44):
The malfunction was definitely in the auxiliary motor set up,
he thought, a common trouble. It wouldn't pay to find out.
If the other motors fired, it would only throw them
further off course. If worst came to worst, they could
roll Valier over and use the six o'clock auxiliary. There
was a small arc through which the motors could turn
on their mounts, but the trouble was unknown, and they
(16:05):
might end up rifling or pinmeeling if they didn't let
bad enough alone. During his mental trouble shooting, Mac was
busily warming his boke into a balloonish looking suit identical
to those worn by the Doughnuts construction crew. Ruiz gave
him some aid, helping him thrust his arms past the
spring folded elbow joints. For some reason, the legs gave
less trouble. Within a fumbling few moments, he was ready
(16:27):
for work. He glanced at Logan through his vizor, feeling
a precious pleasure over the beads of sweat on Logan's forehead.
Time he sweated a little thought the mechanic. A final
check of his headset followed, after which Mac oozed into
the little Putian air lock at the bottom now rear
wall of the cabin. He nodded to Ruiz, who secured
(16:48):
the airlock, then adjusted his suit control to force a
little pressure into his suit. Gradually the suit became livable.
Then he cracked the other air lock valve and allowed
pressure to leak out around him. His suit puffed out
with soft popping noises, and Mac heard the last vestige
of air hiss out of the chambers. He found the
hatchway too tight for comfort, and had a moment of
(17:09):
fear when his tool pack caught in the orifice, wedging
him neatly. He could hear Logan and Ruiz through his
earphones explaining their plight to ground control. They wanted to
know why in blue blazes Valier hadn't contacted the doughnut
when it came within range, and Logan had no defense
save preoccupation with his own plight. Belatedly, Ruis made radio
contact with the doughnut, which was still well within range.
(17:32):
All this time, mac busied himself with his inspection light,
tracing the electrical leads to the small turbine operated auxiliary
motor fuel pumps. Mac Logan's voice startled him. Can't embrace yourself.
I'm going to try to match velocities with the doughnut.
Won't take over one G for a few seconds. Wait
a minute, He looked wildly around him. Valier hadn't been
(17:55):
built with a view towards stowaways, and every cubic inch
of space was crammed with something except for the passageway
with its ladder leading up from the main motor section. Well,
if it wasn't over a G, he could hang on
to the ladder. Suit weighs for another fifty pounds, though
I weight plus fifty, he thought. Give me a chance
to get set, he said aloud. He hooked one bulbust
(18:17):
leg over a ladder rung and braced the other against
a lower rung, hugging the ladder with both arms. Any
time you say, but kill it. If you hear me holler,
then five seconds from my mark Mark, Mac tightened his
grip and then sagged backward as the main motors fired.
The vibrations shook him slightly but deeply, and he fought
(18:37):
to keep his hold. He felt his back creak and
pop with a sudden surge of weight. Then the motor
shut off and Max skidded several feet up the ladder.
No matter how fast a man's reactions were, they couldn't
be applied quickly enough to keep him from starting an
involuntary leap after bracing against a suddenly removed gravity load
(18:58):
all over Mac, you O, K, guess so, but I
feel like a ping pong ball. How are we sittin?
Jes fine rue is cut in? Find anything? Not yet?
Mac started his search anew. Everything seemed in perfect order
up to the turbine pumps. Then he feared the trouble
was near the little motors. That was tough, really tough.
(19:22):
With the motors retracted, it was next too impossible to
get to them past their hydraulically operated booms and actuators extended.
He'd have to go outside. He cringed from the thought,
although he knew that there was little to fear if
he linked himself to the ship. He peered along the
beam of light, searching for some tell tale discoloration in
wiring or a gleaming icy patch which would indicate a
(19:43):
fuel leak. Might be the firing plugs. He muttered, let's
hope not where are you, mac, Maybe you'd better give
us a blow by blow. Logan sounded worried. Good idea
right now, I'm at the nine o'clock actuator. Nothing so far.
He looked around himself, forgetting for the moment how he
(20:04):
was supposed to get past the equipment to the other
auxiliary motor stations. Johnny, he said, slowly, I think you
best break out the tapes auxiliary motor system. You'll find
them under power plant. Once before, macnamara had made a
complete set of tape recordings of his own voice recorded
as he made a thorough going run down of every
(20:25):
system and its components. This was a personal innovation which
his fellow flight engineers considered folly extra weight. He scoffed
undue complication. Mack nodded and went on with his impromptu
speech making. A professional psychiatrist might have said correctly that
Mac felt an unconscious need for supervision, a forgivable deficiency
(20:46):
dating back to his cadet days. Max simply claimed that
the best of men could forget or omit when alone
with a few million dollars worth of Uncle Sam's equipment.
This way he could remind himself of each step to
be taken ahead of time in his own way. The
copilot rushed to comply. Mac waiting suddenly remembered how to
get past this obstacle. Internal braces, which helped keep the
(21:08):
tanks rigidly in place on Earth, were of little use
while in free loading or gravityless state. The braces were removable,
and Mac had loosed a single wing nut to let
the brace swing loose when he heard Johnny Rue's answer,
ready with your tape, Mac, where should I start it?
Run through it till you get to a blank spot,
then another, then stop it. He was certain he didn't
(21:30):
really need the tape, but it was a maintenance aid
and he was determined to use it. He heard a click,
then a hum, as the recorder was jacked into his
head set circuit. Immediately, a familiar voice began a slow
dissertation on power leads from the dome, speed it up
in the space of a second or two to a
high pitched alien gibberish, then to a faint scream. He
(21:52):
began squirming around the turbine banks, got past the first
brace and turned to attach it again. Of course it
wasn't necessary, but play it safe was embroidered on his
brain by years of maintenance experience. Back in his old
mate and squadron, he had been called the old lady
instead of the old man due to his insistence on precautions.
(22:13):
Ruis slowed the tape suddenly on cue and Mac hurt himself, saying,
brace back in its slot and pin it. Be careful
of those linkages on the turbine pumps, and I'll crawl
around to the next brace and unpin it. Pause, scraping
noises and muttered oath, pinch sticks. But it won't without
a load on it. It didn't. He worked slower than
(22:34):
he had on the ground, fumbling with the heavy gloves
and cursing mightily. His voice rambled on, warning him of
obstacles and reminding him about minor points that could give trouble.
He listened carefully, discarding each suggestion. Floating near the twelve
o'clock auxiliary, Mac appeared at each tube connection, tugging and twisting.
Wait a minute, he said. His light flashed out at
(22:57):
the motor writing perched on its swivel, lined against cold,
hard points of light that were the stars. His heart
gave a bound. I think I've found it. His other
voice droned on morbidly. Turn nothing off a minute, Johnny, listen,
there's a lead to the twelve o'clock fuel valve solenoid
that looks like Yes, I'm sure of it. It's pulled
(23:18):
away from a bracket and looks like it might be charred.
Mac twisted around a few of the wiring better, can
you fix it? Sure if that's all there is wrong,
But I'd rather do the work with the motors too.
Tract it tell you what attract them. About forty five
degrees when I give the word, Mac judged the distance
the booms would cover during semi retraction, and half floated,
(23:41):
half crawled out of the way. He found himself breathing heavily.
Despite the freeload conditions. His suit was simply too cumbersome.
The thought came to him that he didn't even know
how long he'd been out of the dome. His breathing
oxygen gage showed half empty, so he must have been
on the job for a round a half hour. He
rationed supply a bit, hoping he could finish the job
(24:02):
without a refill. Okay, Johnny, you can run the tape
again and retract the motors while you're at it. He
heard the tape start again on its course, watching the booms.
They leaped inward then, and Mac felt a crushing blow
across his back. He shook his head gruggly and yelled.
He tried to scramble from his place between motor and
turbine fuel lines, without success. He was trapped like a
(24:24):
wild animal by the heavy actuator, which had swung past
his head. He heard himself say, and be sure to
stay clear of the actuator. It swings through a ninety
degree arc when it's operated. Oh shut up, I know what,
I just judged it wrong. The tape moved on unperturbedly,
reminding him to inspect the actuator bearings and extension rods.
(24:45):
Mac came Logan's voice. You might try to hurry it.
If you can't get it fixed in an hour or two,
we'll have to try rolling valley down to the doughnut.
But it's up to you. Fella, take your time. Well,
you might help me a bit by raising this hydraulic
unit off of my shoulders. Muck, He didn't squash me.
The actuator stayed where it was. Johnny Karl, do you
(25:06):
read me? No answer? Obviously the actuator had smashed his
transmitter but left the receiver section intact. Then all he
could hope for would be a suspicion from one of
the others that all was not well. If they asked
him any questions and he failed to reply, they'd figured
something was wrong. Well, he couldn't count on that. He
(25:27):
struggled with his vulcanized suit trying to squeeze from under
the actuator. If I'd have them retracted completely, he thought
I'd be a dead man. It was a tight squeeze,
but he inched his way out of the trap by
using every ounce of strength at his command. If his
suit tore, he'dnew it. In a hurry. Gasping for breath,
mac drew himself into a crouch and regarded the offending wire.
(25:51):
His flashlight still operated and he could see the heavy
insulation which had been scraped away. No charring. Then it
must have been the extension rods that had scissored the insulation.
The wire hung together by a thread, the strands of
metal severed completely. He groped for his toolkit, trying to
ignore the voice in his headset, well, that takes care
(26:11):
of the actuators. Now for these dinky motors, the swovel
mounts have to work without any lubricant to look for
indications of wear, and mac cursed under his breath. He
sounded so cocksure, so all knowing. He felt like beating himself,
his earlier self, who had blithely toured Valier trailing the
microphone wires without any real premonition of trouble. It always
(26:33):
happens to the other guy, not this time, chum, he
reminded himself. The gloves were systematically foiling his attempts to
withdraw the coil of wire at his side. The toolkit
was the ultimate and maintenance work, compact and complete with
extension handles for the cutters and wrenches. Everything was there,
but practically impossible to use his fingers finally closed over
(26:54):
the wire. He jerked it out and with it the
splice tool. The little pliers carried from the brace above
him and sailed out towards the motor beyond the ship.
He watched horrified as the tool slowly cartwheeled away into space.
All right, he muttered, scratch one' splice tool as also
my only pair of pliers. I'll manage. He knew he
(27:16):
could use the wire cutters in a pinch. In a pinch,
he repeated, Well, that's a hot one. That's about all
that tappened this trip so far. Pinch may pinch the wiring.
What a pinch? Holding the roll of wire tightly in
one hand, he grasped the cutters and pulled them from
the kit With utmost care. He unrolled a foot long
section of wire and clipped it off, laying his flashlight
(27:38):
in the toolkit so that it would shine out in
front of him. He managed to attach the tiny seplace
plugs by pinching them with the cutters, then moved cautiously
to the wire, which still drooped from the jumble of machinery.
Drooped wasn't precisely the word. Actually, the wire had been
bent into its position and stayed that way. As the
harried major reached for the brace on which the wire
(27:58):
had been bracketed, his tool came it vomited flashlight, wrenches,
and screwdrivers, leaving him in total darkness. His cursing was regular,
now monotonous and uninspired. There was another pencil light in
the kit, snapped tightly to the case, and Mac reached
for the whole business. The spare light was a maintenance
problem in itself. Question how to retrieve a fountain pen
(28:20):
sized object when it's held by a small snap and
the retriever is encumbered by three pairs of arctic mittens.
Mark saw his errant flashlight out of the corner of
his eye. Its beam fastened on a collapsed screwdriver. While
both swam sluggishly toward the inspection ladder. He located the
pencil light and jerked it loose, holding the short wire
and cutters in his other hand. This Mac knew was
(28:43):
the crucial point. If he could splice the wire hanging
in front of him, Valier would once more be in
perfect shape. He would have welcomed an extra hand or two.
As he straddled a brace and shoved the tiny flash
between his head piece and shoulder fabric. The wire should
be stripped, he knew, but he didn't have the tools.
They were scarcely ten feet from him, but they could
have rested atop the kremlin for all the good they
(29:04):
did him. He got most of the strands of one
end of wire shoved into a spliced lug and called
it good enough. It was like trying to thread a
needle whose eye was deeper than it was wide while
in a diving suit, using the business end of a
paint brush to start the thread. He withdrew one hand
and searched the kit for friction tape. It might be
mentioned that an insulating tape which would be adhesive at
(29:27):
minus two hundred degrees centigrade yet keep its properties at
plus one thousand, was the near culmination of chemical science.
Silicon plastic research provided the adhesive, an inert gum which
changed almost none through a fantastic range of temperatures and pressures.
The tape macked used to insure his connection at an
Asbesto's base. With adhesive gum insinuated into the tape, he
(29:50):
wrapped the wire tightly, then bound it to the brace.
He noticed his visor fogging up and felt a faint
giddy sensation an oxymia. He let the tape drift as
he reached for his regulator dial. What a fool he was,
he thought, to starve his lungs. He turned the dial
to energy maximum and go precious leaders of oxygen helium mixture.
(30:12):
The gage showed a store of the gas which might
possibly be enough to last him if nothing else went wrong.
Perhaps ten minutes. The pencil flash mercifully still rested in
a fold of his shoulder joint fabric. The insulation tape
floated near his waist. He grabbed it and stowed it
between his knee and the brace, then reached once again
for the wiring. This time the spice went on without
(30:35):
a hitch. He pinched the spice lug and taped the
whole works feverishly. It was done. He had won. The
trip back should only take a couple of minutes. Replacing
the wire cutters in his kit, he held the pencil
plash before him and started retracing his route. He passed
the twelve o'clock brace, pinned it in again, and saw
one of these tools floating to the right of his head.
(30:57):
He gathered it in and swept his tiny flash around
in search of other jetsam from his toolkit. He collected
a wrench in the skittish flashlight, started toward the last
brace between him and the ladder, and felt his legs
go limp. He wasn't particularly alarmed about it. His arms
and vision failed him too, but his brain hadn't enough
incoming oxygen to care much one way or the other.
(31:19):
The few remaining feet seemed to lengthen into a sewer
like passageway that vanished, as did all else. As his
perceptions died. Mac namara was not the sort to wonder
about heaven or hell. When he first awoke, he saw
a faintly rounded ceiling, a soft yellow tint accentuating its featurelessness.
How the devil, he began, His voice failed him. Hi,
(31:43):
mac Logan's beaming face loomed over him. Your rugged character,
you cold is a pickle an hour ago. Now already
you're asking silly questions. He held up his hand as
Max started to speak. I hear you thinking now the devil?
Did I get here? And where is here? In reverse order?
This is the most comfortable berth in the doughnuts facilities?
(32:03):
And you got here courtesy of one Johnny Rouis myself,
I wouldn't have taken the trouble. Mac grimmed back at
his pilot and cleared his throat. Well, where is he?
I want to shake his hand or give him half
my kingdom or something. You know, Johnny the shy tag,
he'll be long after a while. You know, I think
he kind of likes you. When you quit transmitting out there,
(32:25):
Johnny was like a cat on a hot skillet. Finally
he decided to go back and have a look for himself.
But I told him you probably had a hot game
of solitaire going anyway. He went back and found you
asleep on the job. Lost a good ten pounds getting
your fat carcass through the airlock. That was the job
that must have taxed both Rua's and Logan. But Mack
held his silence, and that was about the size of it.
(32:49):
Bellieers parked outside with some of the boy as good
as ever. Come on, we'll sap up some coffee. Max
swung himself up to a sitting position and realized dizzily
that he was mother naked. His ribs felt pulverized. You guys,
suer mauled me up, said accusingly, unavoidable. My dear greused Monkey,
you needed a little artificial respiration and never was too
(33:11):
good at that. Well, whoever did the job rate surprise
of some sort, Mac answered, But my ribs told me
he had more enthusiasm than practice. Logan smiled his old
familiar smile, relieved to find his engineer in joking spirits.
The credit again goes to Johnny, but he added, try
not to be too hard on him. Try giving artificial
(33:32):
respiration to a big lump like yourself some time without
any gravity. Mac digested this titbit as he pulled on
a fresh pair of overalls. Okay, he said, standing on
the Fomax floor, how did he do it? Strapped you
into your couch, face down, and locked his legs around it.
I didn't dare reply any gees. Come on, he finished,
(33:54):
You've managed to upset every time table in the project.
Johnny shaking like a leaf, or was when I left
him a bowl of coffee'll do us both a world
O good, I'm sold, Mac grunted, zipping up a flight boot.
But there's something I'd like to do first chance I get,
which is which is jettison every last strip of tape
(34:14):
I have on Valier. I tell you Logan, he went on,
as they entered the recreation bar. You'll never know how
degrading it is to hear useless, insipid information offered to
you when you're in a tight spot, knowing full well
of voices your own. The End End of Tight Squeeze
by Dean Charles NG
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